Remembering
by Mushstache
Summary: Winter was for remembering because the stars were always out most in Winter. The stars made him remember. And Jack remembered, he remembered his mother. And David, well he happened to be at the right place, at the right time.


Winter in New York was brutal, anyone who lived there knew that. But the night sky was always it's best during winter, every star in the sky twinkled with a dazzling brightness as the moon shined down on all the surrounding inhabitants of the city. Jack took a drag of his cigar, inhaling and exhaling the smoke as he looked up at the clear December sky from the fire escape in the back of the Jacob family's apartment.

"Uh...Jack." A voice from the window breaks him out of his trance. Jack looked up and saw David staring out at him. "You should come inside and warm up a bit."

"Nah t'anks, I'm watchin' the stars." He vaguely gestured to the night sky above him. David cocked his head to the side, stepping out the window.

"I didn't know you were interested in Astronomy." He mentioned curiously, taking a spot next to him and leaning against the railing.

"I ain't, I just like looking at 'em. Ya know..." Jack hesitated a bit, looking down a his hands. For a fraction of a second, a smile curved on his lips. He looked back up at the stars, inhaling then exhaling the smoke from his cigar again. "Me ma liked the stars an' astronomy and all those things. She used to tell me stories about 'em constellations and how they got they're names from those Greek an' Roman myth stories."

David stared at him for a while, blinking and not knowing how to proceed. Taking in a slow breath, he walked towards his friend and leaned against the railing next to him. Jack had been trusting enough with him to share a fact about one of his parents, something he'd never done before with anyone. David wanted to dig in to that trust, wanted to know more about the mysterious figure that was Francis Sullivan, the real Jack Kelly.

"Mythology, you mean...What was she like? Your mother, I mean..." He started slowly, trying to sound casual. Jack chuckled softly, knowing David all too well. He was tapping his fingers along the rail, something he did when he was curious and/or interested about something and wanted to learn more. His eyes flickered towards Jack for a second before turning back to the black night and over to Jack again. David Jacobs could be read like a book. Jack turned to look at him and laughed, shaking his head.

"If ya want t'know more 'bout me, ya should just say, Davey."

"I-That isn't the case. I was merely asking a question..."

"Yeah, yeah...Well, my mother was a nice lady, from what I remember anyway. An' I remember a lot. Before she died of that weird disease that starts with a T..."

"Tuberculosis?" David offered, knowing there had been a short outbreak of the disease many years ago, mainly in women. He pressed his lips into a thin line, trying not to frown to show how sorry he felt. He knew Jack hated pity, but David couldn't help it. He thought it must have been terribly difficult for him because while it happened he couldn't get close to her much. Just the slightest sneeze from her could have transmitted the disease onto him.

"Yeah, that." Jack started again, his brown eyes staring down at the alley below. "She used t'cough up blood an' it would scare me. I was just six or seven at the time so it was hard watchin' her go through that. When she was healthy, though, she used t'tell stories 'bout Cowboys and 'bout the cattles being driven up northwest by the time I was born, in 1882. She said I might be destined t'be one of them." He chuckled, remembering the dreams his mother had weaved up for the both of them to forget the problems they were escaping. To forget that at any moment his father could stagger through the door of their one bedroom apartment in a drunken stupor and do god knows what to his mother while he was sent out. Jack clenched his fists tightly around the railing, only letting go when David's voice got through to him.

"Is that how you got so interested in Western culture and such, then?"

"Yeah, guess it was." He forced a smile through, remembering the good times he spent with his mother. "She's the one who always said that if I was one of them cowboys, m'name would be Jack Kelly. She said it soun'ed like a cowboy name."

"So she basically gave you your alias."

"Thought I'd use it in her memory." He shrugged, only just guessing whatever the word alias meant. David nodded slowly, running a hand through his curls.

"Hey, let's go inside. I think Ma's done with that soup." He gestured to the window sheepishly. Jack stared back up at the stars, a smile on his face this time.

"Hey, Dave?"

"Yes?"

"I miss her."

David smiled softly at the statement said in a tone above a whisper. He walked back to the railing and stood next to his friend. "That's just fine, she was your mother after all."

"Yeah, I wonder if I disappoint her with the things I do sometimes..."

"I think she's fine with the things you've accomplished. We all do things our parents wouldn't like but I think as long as you're living and breathing and getting by alright, then I think she's very proud of you."

Jack nodded, still staring up at the sky. He shoved his left hand into his trouser pocket and took a final drag of his cigar before putting it out.

"Hey, Dave?"

"Yeah?"

"T'anks for listenin'."

David smiled softly at his friend and clasped a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, let's go inside." He motioned to the window where Jack could see the plates being set, always happy to see one for him.

"You know Ma sometimes sets out a plate for you even though you're not eating with us that day. Habit, I guess." David shrugged, smiling to himself and climbing through the window. Jack stood there, a lopsided grin forming on his lips before he too climbed through the window, shutting it behind him.


End file.
